The Melancholy of Emma Starbright, 1805
by Cerium Radonide
Summary: This story technically has no OCs. Really. - Kyon finds the old diary of a boy called John Smith, about his interactions with a weird girl named Emma Starbright, who has a fascination for the supernatural. Expect similarities and surprises alike...
1. Prologue

"Read."

I glance sideways from my game of Othello with Koizumi and see a small book held in front of me, at around eye level. Deviating from her usual routine of turning pages, Nagato had stood up and presented it to me.

"Why? Is there a secret message in it again?"

"There are no concealed textual additions from myself present within this volume. This text originated from a large city situated in the lower regions of a heavily populated island between the hypothetical markings around this planet known as the Artic Circle and Tropic of Cancer."

"Ummm?" Sometimes, I really feel that Nagato talks like that just for the sake of it…

"The location is more commonly known as London. This transcript was written in the English Roman alphabet, but I have used data manipulation to translate it into modern Japanese for your convenience."

"You want me to read it that badly, eh?"

"I hypothesise that it will be of great interest to you."

Wow, she's actually recommending me a book just for the sake of it? Nagato really is becoming more human… I guess I can't really deny her.

"Okay, then… I guess should start now. Hey Koizumi, game's off."

The esper leans back with a disappointed smile. We both know who would have won anyway.

I take a sip of the fabulously made tea by my side - made by the much more fabulous Asahina-san, I hasten to add - and begin reading.

After a bit of skimming through, my eyes widen and I start looking more closely.

Just… what is this?

A diary from early nineteenth century London, and in it…

Emma Starbright, the hyperactive weird girl…

Helen Willow, the silent reader…

Sarah Lockhart, the beautiful, pleasant, maiden…

Wolfram Edwards, the irritating young man with a penchant for philosophy…

And the boy who wrote the diary… a normal, sarcastic young boy who enjoys referencing Shakespeare… called John Smith.

No way. This had to be a coincidence. I refuse to accept such a chillingly creepy parallel!

I turned back to the diary and continued reading. It was extremely old, and I had to turn the pages delicately as I read.

"_If any of you are vampires, demons, witches, or ghosts, then come find me! That is all!"_

Nagato, just where did you find this…?


	2. June 7th

**June 7th**

I am to start writing a diary today in commemoration of starting my first day of school.

Well, to be true, I was supposed to start writing more than a week ago, but so much has happened that I hadn't found the time.

My first day at school had gone completely contrary to my expectations, though I suppose that leaves all the more to write about…

Now, where to start?

How about, when did I stop believing in the urban myth of Bloody Mary?  
Yes, I know, this is a somewhat strange introduction, but do bear with me.

I don't think I ever believed that old folk tale. A spirit that appears in the mirror at midnight after saying her name three times? What a ridiculous concept. What happened when two people did it at the same time? Would the psychotic spirit have to split in two? A likely story.

Whenever I was presented with such an urban myth, it became a habit of mine to punch holes in its logic until all that was left was a disappointed storyteller.

But when it came to more intricate and interesting tales, such as ancient ghost stories, howling werewolves and disguised demons, I was a bit more open to such concepts. For a while, at least. Maybe I tired of my habit, and eventually started craving for a tale too bizarre to be true to actually _be_ true.

Modern society is rather cruel, however, and as a respectable Englishman, I am expected to be righteous and rational. There is no room in society for anyone who believed in such 'childish fantasies'.

And so, I eventually was forced to abandon my hopes, and look forward to newer, less exciting, but more peaceful futures. All the world may be a stage, but the men and women that inhabit it are destined to be merely players. I can only follow the role which has been set for me by the playwright.

I was aspiring to become a writer, like Shakespeare or Homer. Yes, something nice and calm such as that. And so that was my simple goal for a while. That is, until the fateful day I met Emma Starbright.

Our first class started at 8:00 sharp, and we filed into the classroom as the church bells rang. There was a mix of emotions on everyone's faces. Fears of the future. Hopes of happiness. Preparations for the long journey of work ahead of us. The seating allotments were up on the chalk board, and I took my seat, as did everyone else. The teaching master walked in once the mild commotion had died down, and began his announcement.

"Good morning, class. I am Mr. Baker. You will refer to me only as 'sir', and speak only when told. If you fail to meet my expectations on any matter, appropriate action may be taken. Any comments?"

I don't know what to make of sir yet. On one hand, all teachers have to be that strict nowadays, but he doesn't seem that bad so far. Either way, the next statement made in the class was probably the one that changed the course of my life.

"Good day, everyone! I'm from West Essex, my name is Emma Starbright! If any of you are vampires, demons, witches, or ghosts, then come find me! That is all!"

I turned around at the voice behind me and stared. Much like Prince Hamlet gazing upon the spirit of his father, I observed this person with a mixture of fascination and horror.

She was actually very pretty, with long brown hair, and a fair, but daring face. Her green eyes glinted with determination, and her smooth lips were dead-set with a serious expression, which told me that this wasn't some sort of ill-contrived joke.

Sir, completely clueless as to how to react, sensibly chose to ignore this outburst and continued with things as normal. Looking back, perhaps that is what I should have done, too.

I remember our first conversation. It was first break All the sensible people stayed away from her after that proclamation, but I regret to say I chose to ignore the consensus and attempt to speak with her.

"Umm… your name is Emma, right? I was wondering what were your intentions when you spoke of vampires and such?"

She sat upright and looked me straight in the eye.

"Are you a vampire?"

"…No."

"Then go away!"

"Why?"

No response.

What a pleasant start to our unique relationship.

It was a bit later on that I was approached by one of my other classmates, a boy named Jacob.

"Hey, Smithy!" He said.

Smithy was what almost everyone called me. It sounds really stupid, but once more people start calling you that than your real name, there's no longer any use opposing it.

"I saw you trying to talk to Emma Starbright." He laughed. "Well, I should say give up now! She has never paid attention to any young gentleman whatsoever! May I recommend some more attainable targets?"

And so I was forced to pay attention to his detailed analysis of the school's female population. One girl he was particularly keen on was a young lady by the name of Mary Rose, who, according to him, was nice to everyone in class and also accomplished much in academic and athletic fields.

Mary Rose, huh … Jacob, I humbly decline. I doubt she'd ever have anything to do with me, anyway.

Back onto the topic of that peculiar female that seems to have dominated this diary entry, I had noticed more and more oddities to do with Emma Starbright over the next few days.

Every day, the number of ribbons in her hair changed. I had only been watching for a week, but she seemed to add a new one daily. In fact, just yesterday, I asked her about this. I shall refer back to this later.

She also momentarily joined and left every circle of friends in the school, from the cricket players to the bug collectors. From what I hear, it was quite a traumatising experience that involved her showing up and announcing that she'd join for a bit, participating in the group's activity (And, strangely, excelling in it), and leaving again without a word. By now, I'm sure almost everyone in school has heard of this singular girl.

And finally, her clothing. School uniform was to be worn during classes at all times, but Emma had found a loophole in this rule and proceeded to change into her plain home clothes during every break over five minutes, exposing her pale body to everyone and having to be pushed behind a curtain to do it by Mary Rose.

Strange indeed.

Back to the ribbons… yesterday I finally gathered the courage to make an inquiry into them.

"Those ribbons… are they for warding off demons or whatnot?"

She blinked and looked at me, surprised. Wait, you mean I was correct? That was a joke…

"How did you know?" She asked.

"Well, it seemed like… the rational explanation, I suppose." I quickly blurted out.

"I think that the strength of demons increases every day, until Sunday when the church resets it."

"So that's why you wear one more ribbon every day?"

"Yes."

"Why not tie all six of them together and just wear that all the time?"

"That would be boring."

And so our repartee had ended for the next day. Imagine my shock when today I entered class, and saw that her hair was devoid of any ribbons whatsoever!

"What did you do with the ribbons?" I had asked her.

"The fact that someone like you figured it out means they were much too obvious. So I am taking different measures against them now."

I looked at her from all angles, but failed to take notice of anything that could be remotely associated with a demon ward. However, we continued with a few mild conversations for the rest of the day. It seems Emma Starbright has finally deemed me as 'tolerable', which is probably not a good omen.

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I stare at the pages of the book, almost frozen in disbelief.

"Nagato… this is some kind of joke, isn't it? I mean… all these similarities… they can't really be…"

"Keep reading."

**A/N:** Well. Lots to say here, not all of it completely related to the story. First, my thanks for reading this, and I hope you enjoyed it. Although so far I'm sticking closely to the story, this is only a starting point. Expect things to diverge more from the original as time goes on (I'm still going to keep all the counterparts' personalities the same, though. The characters are one of my favourite parts of the plotline, along with how the author managed to think up a good excuse for combining aliens, Time travellers and espers…)

Also, regarding 19th century England… I took quite a bit of poetic license with this. I'm trying to keep it as accurate as possible, but some occurrences you'll just have to accept. (For example, I'm not so sure if a group of 17-year oldish boys and girls of John and Emma's social status could even go to school together, but maybe that's just my stereotyped view of 19th century London.) Let's just say this is some sort of alternate universe London where some things are different.

Oh yeah, technically this isn't my first fanfic. I'm also currently collaborating with my old school friend, Kite Impulse in writing 'The Kyonness of Haruhi Suzumiya (And Vice-Versa)'. Read it if you liked this. It's on his account, so go search for it.


	3. June 9th

**June 9th**

Just what have I gotten myself into? Writers are supposed to write, not speak, and I probably could have avoided this if I had followed that rule.

In fact, I should have simply followed my common sense and never tried to associate myself with Ms Starbright in the first place…

Well, the fact of the matter is this; in a momentarily lapse of judgement, I had unintentionally given Emma quite a horrendous idea.

It was just yesterday, and sitting at my desk reading during short break, I had no choice but to let Emma's rants of her many scruples penetrate my ears and mind.

"This society is appalling! We are educated only so we can grow up to be prim and proper and attain other completely unnecessary dispositions! Where is the clause within these modern days that allows us to express ourselves upon the world?"

It probably doesn't exist for the sole reason of preventing people like you from doing as they pleased.

"Hasn't god created us to see what we are capable of? If I were a god, that's what I would think! I demand liberation! I demand acceptance! I demand a means to allow ourselves to single-handedly change the world!"

"You seem to demand a lot, Ms. Starbright." I sigh softly.

She turned around, seemingly startled that I was listening in. Wait, does that mean she was saying that to herself? Or some paranormal entity which my untrained eyes cannot gaze upon?

Nevertheless, I made the fatal error of continuing my ramble,

"You say you wish to change the world? Surely you jest. The world is a developing sphere of life and culture. It is always changing, and someone like you who attempts to oil its intricate workings has no hope of doing so if you continue in your manner; only talking and taking no action. Why do you dictate continuously about how you yearn for change, yet never take any large-scale actions? Humans are all subconsciously afraid of change: that is why. The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear. And the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown. That is why only those who dare look into the eyes of god to challenge what he sees are capable of providing any great effort!" I stare at her bright green eyes sternly as I continued to speak, "That is why ordinary people like us have a job to do! We are to sit back, and act as expected, so that those who can achieve change have solid foundations to build upon! Do you understand?"

As an apprentice of wordplay, I was rather chuffed with myself for speaking so eloquently.

However, she looked disconcerted for a moment, then turned away and refused to speak to me for the rest of the day.

It was the only the next day when the demons of bad fortune broke loose from their chambers and began to haunt my life.

"Hey, Smitey!" Emma grabs the back of my well-ironed shirt and pulls me over to her.

"Please, my name has already been mangled enough. It's 'Smithy'." I sigh.

"I don't care. Anyway, inspiration has struck me, Spiffy!"

Does she listen to what I say at all?

"Tell me if you must."

"I am to create an organisation! We shall gather all those with fire in their hearts and create a group that will change the world!"

"Okay." I nod and turn back around.

"…Is that it?" She tilts her head to one side.

"Yes. Please speak in softer tones."

"Whatever for?"

"We are right now in the middle of a test."

She looks around and sees all her classmates looking up from their frantic scribblings and staring at her.

"A test? Since when?" She blinked.

"Forty minutes ago. We only have twenty left."

"I see." She sits down and picks up her quill.

Ten minutes later, Emma Starbright had finished her test and was peacefully sleeping on her desk.

I really want to know how God decides who is deserving of such unnecessarily prolific skill.

After school ended, I was instantly grabbed by Emma, who dragged me along the labyrinth of corridors and out of the school.

"Where in God's realm are you taking me?" I exclaimed.

"To our new clubroom, of course!"

Since when was I part of this club? Was I even allowed to have any say in this?

This 'new clubroom' turned out to be an old shack on the edge of the school grounds. Emma kicked the door open in a most ungraceful manner, and strode inside.

It was a fairly basic place, with a few windows and desks. That one in the corner was piled with musty old books. What surprised me most was the presence of another person there.

"Would you know who that is?" I whisper to my captor.

"She was here when I looked at this place earlier. She said we could use it. Now stay here for a moment."

The girl in question turned towards me as Emma bolted out the door.

Her face was incredibly pale, as if she had hardly seen the light of day – it seemed she preferred it that way, as well: she was sitting by the open window, but held a parasol with her right shoulder so that no sunlight could taint her skin. Her face was rather obscured by all the garments she wore; a pair of thick spectacles, and a thin white scarf around her mouth. She had very long hair, that looked black but seemed to shine with a silver tint when hit with the dim light in the room. Other than that, she was wearing our school uniform. A student here? I had never seen her before…

"Helen Willow." A calming voice spoke, reasonably loudly but still sounding like a whisper. It was the girl.

"Well, um, Helen. Are you really fine with relinquishing this room to her?"

A small nod.

"Really? There's no telling what she might do if left to her own devices…"

Another nod.

"You do have an honest say in this matter, you are aware?"

To my dismay, she nodded once more.

"But what if-"

"OKAY!" Emma burst back through the doors, and behind her stood a dazzlingly beautiful maiden.

"Lady and gentleman, allow me to introduce to you the mystical eloquence that is Sarah Lockhart!"

Ms. Lockhart was quite small of height, but that was no distraction from her magnificent, almost perfect face. Round, blue eyes shone outwards coupled with a pure, angelic nose, and an elegant pair of cherry-red lips. She was shivering softly, covering her head of golden hair with her delicate hands, and barely managed to get a few sentences out.

"E-e-excuse m-me… w-who m-might y-you be? C-could you p-pray t-tell me your i-intentions?"

She was trying desperately hard to remain polite, even though she was looking right at Emma, who was intimidation, uncouthness, and malice incarnate.

"Yes, pray tell what _are _you doing, Emma?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Just observe, and allow your eyes to feast!" She proclaimed in reply. "She's dazzlingly pretty, is she not?"

In my belief, disagreeing with such a statement would be one of the greatest falsehoods of our century.

"Uh… is that your sole motivation?" I blinked.

"Of course not! Take a look at this!" To my horror, Emma bent down and pulled almost the whole of Sarah's silky dress upwards, revealing her bare legs and… other things.

"E-eeeek!" Sarah did the sensible thing and screamed as loudly as she could, flailing her arms around to try and pull her clothing back down.

"Hahahah! We're at the edge of the school! Nobody can hear you scream!" Emma laughed cheerfully, as if she were playing a game rather than tearing off the clothes of a girl she barely knew.

"So, Smissy! What do you think? Aren't those legs divine? Such a shame to hide them under such a boring dress!"

No, I think the dress should be kept. If anyone else saw those, they would be overcome with lust and start to cause huge riots.

"And that's not all!" Emma laughed, and I realised that she had been acting comparatively tame in class as her arms snaked up the inside of Ms. Lockhart's dress, across her stomach, and who knows what would have happened if I hadn't interfered then.

"Emma! Would you go so far as to defile your own sex?" I cried, pulling her arms away.

"Not defiling! This is revealing what shouldn't remain hidden! Why don't you look and see?"

Sarah squealed like a mouse at the very thought. She was indeed lucky that I considered myself a gentleman.

"No thank you."

"So." Emma walked towards the window, past the silently reading Helen. Was the reading the whole time? Most likely she was far too embarrassed at the unfolding scene to allow her presence to be acknowledged.

"Sarah, you shall join our group, am I right?"

"G-Group? M-may I enquire as to the n-nature of this groups activities?"

Well, from what I can see, so far we have trespassing, kidnapping, usurping of buildings, and of course, harassment.

"It is a group for doing fun things, of course!" Emma smiled brightly.

She is going to be a criminal when she's older, I'm sure of it.

"…" Sarah fell silent. Now if only Emma acted like this more often. "Yes. I will join."

Excuse me? Is there some strange allure of Emma's that I am completely missing out on?

"Excellent! With our new maid, that makes four of us!" Emma declared to the world.

"Maid?" I raise an eyebrow.

"But of course! All successful organisations have to have glamorous subordinates!"

I don't think anyone would have been able to come up with an adequate rebuttal against that comment, so I stayed silent.

"Now, all successful organisations have a name, as well!"

Defying her was out of the question now. She had enough momentum to outrun a train.

"Go on, then." I sighed with defeat.

"We shall call ourselves the **AHA**!"

**A splendid group that changes the world and**

**Hates the ordinary;**

**An Emma Starbright association.**

I have not heard worse wordplay since the carved poetry of Orlando de Boys.

So, what I thought would be a perfectly normal diary may in fact be a chronicling of some incredibly bizarre things to come. One can only hope for the best (Which here means 'the most mediocre').

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Well, what can I say. So far, I can really sympathise with this 'John Smith' character.

Now, as for these two new people in this too-similar-to-be-true story…

My gaze drifts over to the angelic maid delicately knitting by the computer, and the ex-glasses girl that had gone back to reading her own book.

Helen Willow, and Sarah Lockhart…

Do they both have some dark, supernatural secrets, or is this where the similarities end?

I suppose I'll probably have to wait until Willow-san lends John a book with a message-inscribed bookmark, or John finds a note from Lockhart-san in his locker.

Yare, yare…

**A/N: **With my limited knowledge of 19th century London, it's sometimes a bit difficult to determine how 'old fashioned' I should make the language…

I've been doing a lot of studying in English class; Pride and Prejudice, Great Expectations, and lots of Shakespeare, so that's where I get the language from.

If things go as planned (Which they only do half the time), the next chapter will hold the first significantly noticable alteration to the plot. Won't exactly be a major one, but it's significant...ish.

PS. Heheh, I made John quote HP Lovecraft even though he wasn't even born then xD


End file.
